So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. “You did not tell me that you were going out, or I would have offered my escort. There is no poison that would affect her. The metrical irregularity is intentional, because I want, as it were, to put you apart: to change the lilt and the mood altogether when I speak of you. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup.
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